


i'm all bloody knuckles, longing for home (if it weren't for second chances we'd all be alone).

by serenitysea



Series: all of my heroes sit up straight (orphanage au) [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Orphanage AU, fitzopold the prankster, grant ward protecting tiny smalls, jemma the one who patches them all up, skye is stubborn as the day is long
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-24
Updated: 2014-11-24
Packaged: 2018-02-26 20:15:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2664920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenitysea/pseuds/serenitysea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When they bring her in, he watches from the shadows.</p><p>She's all scuffed knees and elbows and tangled dark hair. There is an edge to her and a fearsome look in her eyes that appears almost inhuman.</p><p>She is so tiny but she holds herself like a fighter braced for the next hit.</p><p>He knows what that's like. </p><p> </p><p>(shield orphanage au.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	i'm all bloody knuckles, longing for home (if it weren't for second chances we'd all be alone).

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thequeenofokay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequeenofokay/gifts).



> DAMN IT MELISSA.

When they bring her in, he watches from the shadows. 

She's all scuffed knees and elbows and tangled dark hair. There is an edge to her and a fearsome look in her eyes that appears almost inhuman.  
  
She is so tiny but she holds herself like a fighter braced for the next hit.  
  
He knows what that's like.  
  
*  
  
Her name is Skye.  
  
She always loses the ribbons that the nuns give her to tie back her hair and her clothes wind up needing mending more than anyone else at the orphanage.  
  
She's the first to pick a fight and the last to end it.  
  
She'll fight for whatever, whenever.  
  
It doesn't matter that she's the smallest one among her age group or that she's often outnumbered.  
  
She fights scrappy and dirty and she fights _hard_.  
  
Even when she loses, she makes them _work_ for it.  
  
There's a fire in her that no one can put out.  
  
He hopes he never has to see the day when that happens.  
  
(It's kind of beautiful the way she wears her bruises and cuts like badges of honor.)  
  
*  
  
"Someone is coming for me," she insists angrily to anyone who will listen.  
  
She is tense with the fire that runs from the type of conviction one holds onto out of desperation rather than security of fact. "I'm not going to be here for very much longer."  
  
Grant slides his biscuit over to her and allows her privacy as she greedily devours it.  
  
Vulnerability comes in different shapes and forms for everyone. He doesn't think Skye is the type to eat her feelings but he knows hunger.  
  
He knows hunger even when his belly is full.  
  
(He doesn't wish that hunger on anyone.)  
  
*  
  
He finds her sobbing in one of the abandoned rooms on the third floor.  
  
No one is allowed to go up there. The nuns keep the staircase locked with two different keys.  
  
They let him wander where he likes because he helps out with the younger kids (and because he's been around so long that he knows the ins and outs as well as they do).  
  
It seems painfully intrusive to stumble upon her but the nuns will bloody her knuckles if they discover her here. So he _has_ to get her back to the main house before they do.  
  
"Hey," he whispers softly. He keeps a safe distance to make sure she doesn't get spooked.  
  
Skye stiffens and swipes at her eyes hastily. When she whirls around to look at him, that fire is still burning brightly on her face and it highlights the stained tracks from the tears she has cried. "What do you want?"  
  
"I just," Grant takes a few steps closer, keeping his hands up where she can see them. "You're going to get in trouble if they find you up here."  
  
"Who cares?" Her voice is bitter and dark. "No one is coming anyway."  
  
(They are not talking about the nuns anymore.)  
  
"I care." He holds out his hand to her. "If you come back with me, I'll sneak you some dessert."  
  
Her eyes jump to his warily. "What do you want for it?"  
  
Grant shakes his head. "Nothing. I just don't want you to get hurt."  
  
They stand there for a while. His arm starts to ache from the strain of keeping his hand outstretched to her but he won't let it fall. He won't leave her.  
  
Skye darts her hand into his and glances up at him, as if he's going to disappear or turn away. She folds her fingers around his so tightly their bones are touching.  
  
Grant squeezes her hand once and leads her back.  
  
*  
  
He introduces her to his little companions, Fitz and Jemma.  
  
They coo over her in a way that anyone else would get a punch to the face (and knees and stomach) but somehow she can't seem to summon up her _mad_. They're just so _nice_.  
  
Skye looks at Grant for reassurance; for his single nod that encompasses so many things —  
  
 _yes, they're harmless_  
  
and  
  
 _i promise they won't hurt you_  
  
and  
  
 _please don't hurt them either, they've gone through a hell of a time_  
  
and  
  
 _they just want to be your friend_.  
  
  
She doesn't know when she started looking to him for guidance like that but it's too late to stop now because when he gives her the nod and when she feels that tiny kernel of approval and immediate need to widen her circle of defense to include these two chattering beings — it's like something settles in her chest and expands.  
  
Mostly it's a warm something but it hurts a little bit at the edges, like something unfamiliar and foreign where it had never been before.  
  
He nods at her again and she sighs once, pushing back her hair so that Jemma can get a closer look at the scrape on her face.  
  
Fitz yelps and immediately rushes for supplies, putting them in Jemma's hands with the familiarity that tells Skye this is not the first time they've had to patch up one of their own. Jemma's hands are steady and cool as they repair the the damage done by Skye's latest bad decision.  
  
When her would-be doctor (or is it nurse?) steps back and quirks a smile of approval, Skye can't help but relax.  
  
"There now," Jemma briskly strips off her little gloves and shucks them into the trash. "Grant will make sure you put some cream on it tomorrow morning and you'll have healed up by midweek."  
  
"She knows what she's talking about," Fitz adds, the faintest glimmer of admiration in his eyes. "Once Grant got so roughed up that we couldn't take him to the Infirmary and she had to perform stitches —"  
  
"— That's enough," Grant cuts in sharply. "We don't want to scare away Skye before dinnertime."  
  
She holds his gaze levelly. "I'm not scared."  
  
(They are not talking about the kind of stitches you can see.)  
  
"I know," He says.  
  
They stand there staring at each other until Jemma coughs politely.  
  
"You'll see Skye back to her room?" She inquires, eyebrows pointedly raised.  
  
Grant visibly comes back to the moment and nods. "We'll see you in the morning."  
  
Skye watches as Fitz and Jemma disappear into a corridor off to the left. She falls into step beside Grant as he walks her to her door.  
  
"Thanks," she tries to smile but it's been a while since her jaw has formed anything but a snarl.  
  
Thankfully Grant seems to have had some experience with that particular type of dilemma and squeezes her shoulder gently. "I'll come get you for breakfast."  
  
It's on the tip of her tongue to argue but there's some kind of unspeakable relief about not having to be the one fighting all the time. No one argues with Grant; he's been here the longest and all of the children respect him.  
  
"Okay."  
  
"Get some sleep, Skye."  
  
She watches as he goes into his own room next door.  
  
(The walls are very thin. He can probably hear her crying. But only sometimes, when the day has been really bad.)  
  
*  
  
That night Skye lies awake in bed.  
  
She still can't find her mad. It's just this peculiar bit of warmth and safety. Like his broad shoulders are strong enough to protect her from the kids who try to take her down for having hope.  
  
(She won't let anyone take her hope away. She's going to get out here. Someone is coming for her.)  
  
Until they do, she's going to be right there next to Grant. Looking out for Fitz and Simmons.  
  
Protecting the three of them. (Grant has blind spots too and she's seen him with a bruise every so often. She wants to track down whoever has dared to put marks on him and make them _hurt_ with her last breath. She will find them. They will regret what they've done. No one hurts the people she cares about.)  
  
All the breath leaves her in a _whoosh_.  
  
She wasn't supposed to _care_ about him.  
  
 _Dammit_.  
  
*  
  
They become a sort of avenging little foursome.  
  
No one messes with them; or if they're incredibly misguided enough to do so — Grant and Skye are the ones who help them see _reason_ (mostly it's Grant coming to Skye's rescue/some idiot's defense before she pummels the crap out of them); Jemma is the one patching them up; Fitz is the one devising the best pranks and revenge upon said idiot — they are made to see the errors of their ways _quickly_.  
  
They get older at the orphanage.  
  
But they grow up _together_.  
  
*  
  
( _years later_.)  
  
Skye threads her fingers through his and rests her head over his heart. The steady _thump thump_ settles the fire that still burns inside her after all these years and she exhales out in measured, slow breaths.  
  
Grant runs his free hand down the length of her hair and kisses her forehead. "Fitzsimmons said goodnight."  
  
"You know Jemma's got a plan for those unruly third year kids that came on Tuesday."  
  
"Fitz mentioned it. I think a science program would be nice. Keep them occupied, take their mind off things."  
  
Skye closes her eyes as nostalgia bites at her with the kind of persistence that is unavoidable. She's seen that hunger and that anger before. She knows what it's like. "They think it's a mistake. That they aren't going to be here long."  
  
"It's our job to make sure they're okay for as long as they are." He is firm on that point, always working hard to ensure the safety for the children in the orphanage.  
  
(They could have left years ago, having become adults in their own right and legally able to make their way in the world. They didn't need to go anywhere. They had just looked at each other and known that they were already home.)  
  
Just before she falls asleep Skye mumbles, " 'so glad you came for me."  
  
Grant stares down at the small hand entwined with his. "I was going to whether you liked it or not."  
  
"See?" Skye moves sleepily until she can kiss him. "I _told_ you someone would."  
  
*  
  
When they walk in everyone watches from the hallway.  
  
She's all laughing dark eyes and long hair. There is an softness to her and a smile that is quick to appear, especially when he is around.  
  
She is so tiny but she holds herself like someone who knows the security of unconditional support and loyalty; like she can level mountains with a single look.  
  
He is her single look; and the only one worthy of her sideways glances and secret grins.  
  
He knows what that's like.  
  
(He wishes that kind of happiness on everyone.)

 

**Author's Note:**

> \+ title from gregory alan isakov's second chances. beautiful song.  
> \+ i can be found on [tumblr](http://b-isforbombshell.tumblr.com) if you please.


End file.
